


Something Good Can Work

by wellthisisprettyrisque (collettephinz)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: AU, Coffee, College, Comfort, Hurt, M/M, Pining, emotional/verbal abuse, lots of my voice, more coffee, seriously gratuitous amounts of coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1815781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collettephinz/pseuds/wellthisisprettyrisque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So what if Gerard couldn't manage to save his life on his own?</p><p>He was absolutely positive he could save Ryan's because Ryan Ross could play, like, seven instruments and he was another reason Frank talked to him and Ryan gave Ray someone to play guitar with, which made Mikey happy and that made Gerard happy. </p><p>That's all Gerard wanted, anyways.</p><p>To be happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It'll Take a Little Time to Get a Little Better

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta and no inner spell check and no desire to re-read this so all typos are my own and my precious and you have permission to throw your emotional agony over the MCR breakup (no I will never get over it) at me for anything you find that makes your inner grammar Nazi vomit
> 
> this work is purely (and somewhat unfortunately) a work of fiction that I write when I can't sleep so don't go swearing to any band member in here that anything in this happened or you will get the weirdest look in the history of looks and a closeup experience with the security of said venue/show

Going home from a night of not drinking was when it happened. 

It had been an okay night. It had snowed the night before (because of course one of the few snow days they had up here happened the night before, when Gerard hadn't been able to pay his heating in favor of keeping running water), then rained all day, so everything was wet and slushy and smelled like ass because the sewers of Seattle tended to back up after it was drowned in all that water. 

Mikey had made Gerard come out of his apartment to get away from his horrible roommate-- at least, that's what Mikey had said. Gerard began to get the inkling that maybe Mikey had just missed him after Mikey had refused to make-out with Ray the whole night. They'd gone to Pencey's because Mikey knew Gerard had a thing for the bartender and they'd barely drunk until midnight and that had been that.

And honestly, if anyone had asked Gerard years ago what he thought his connection with suicide would be, he would have sooner said that he would need to be saved from suicide, not that he would ever save someone else. So when Gerard had crossed the stone bridge he couldn't name that led from Pencey's to his crummy apartment complex with his brother and his brother's boyfriend after a long night of being idiots and avoiding the slush, he hadn't expected to see a boy step onto the ledge in front of them and swing his right leg off.

It took a second longer for Gerard to realize that this kid meant business than it took for Gerard to react; there had been no hesitation, no moment of thought before the boy had stepped off. Luckily, Gerard's body had been a step ahead of his brain, and he found himself with his body half off the ledge and a hand full of the shoulder of the boy's sweater before he even knew what was happening. Then he was screaming for Mikey to come help him, because while this kid weighed way too little to be healthy, Gerard was bending his spine in a way that had him wheezing and his arm twitching and he knew he needed help in saving this boy's life. 

Then Mikey was pulling Gerard back over the ledge with the boy in tow and Gerard hadn't been sure what to expect after the suicide attempt and avoidance was over, but a huge shove from the skinny kid hadn't been at the forefront of his predictions. 

Gerard looked into the angry, animalistic eyes of the boy (and he was right to call him a boy because he was all baby faced and fair skinned with honey-coloured eyes and soft, brown hair and had huge elephant tears rolling down his cheeks) and held his hand up in an abortive gesture to get the boy to calm down while he was screamed at.

“Why did you do that?!” the boy demanded in a voice that cracked with emotion and pain and made Gerard's heart break a little too. “Why did you do that?!” he demanded again before turning and making a run back for the ledge, and holy shit, this kid really wanted to die.

Then Ray was in the mix and he looped his arms around the boy's waist, pulling him back and away from the ledge and making the boy face Mikey and Gerard while mumbling something Gerard did not understand and looking for all the world like Ray would let himself be shot just to make this kid stop trying to jump into the frigid waters below. And Gerard was slowly approaching the thrashing boy with his hand still in the air, trying to talk to him, but to no avail. 

So Gerard did the first thing that came to mind and tore the boy from Ray's arms to pull him into his own chest, shoving his hand into the boy's hair to make him hide his face in Gerard's neck. Gerard didn't understand why, but he had this hunch that maybe if the boy felt someone else's heart beat as they lived, he'd want to keep living too. After all, nothing was more addictive and adrenaline-inducing than a good beat.

The the boy began to really cry. Huge, chest wracking sobs that left the boy's body trembling and shaking with what sounded more like pain than anything else. The sky opened up again and cried with the boy and Gerard looked to Mikey and Ray with an air of helplessness and a sense of confusing and unknown purpose that made him selfishly feel alive again.

\- - -

Gerard took the boy home because his roommate wasn't there suddenly (and for whatever reason). Mikey and Ray crashed on the couch, which Gerard always thought was ridiculous, because watching Mikey curl up atop Ray's large body would always make him giggle hysterically no matter how many times he saw it. Gerard took the armchair that squeaked when he just walked past it and Ray had gently placed the previously-sobbing, now-asleep boy in Gerard's bed. Gerard had relinquished all of his spare blankets, and his roommate's, to the boy because he really felt bad about rescuing him and then not even being able to give him a functioning heater. 

Mikey tried to stay up and talk to him but one look at Ray on the couch had flicked all the switches off in his brain and Gerard's little brother was out in seconds. It was probably for the best, considering Gerard didn't sleep. He stayed up, sketching the boy that had tried his very best to die in his watercolour sketchbook book, using the yellow illumination from the streetlight outside so he didn't wake anyone up. 

He passed out with the sketch in his lap at around four in the morning, then had been roused by his roommate returning drunk off his ass (so drunk he didn't notice all his blankets were missing) around six, and then Mikey grumbling and scuffling around, fumbling with the coffee maker, at eight. Gerard came into full consciousness at nine and stretched his arms and legs out till he was practically horizontal. The chair screamed at him in protest, but he didn't care. Instead, he gratefully took his designated, and now filled, coffee mug from the outstretched arm of his brother and headed to his room to check on the boy-who-almost-jumped. 

The boy wasn't in bed.

Gerard panicked, his eyes searching the room until they rested on the corner between the window and his closet. The corner that always had a thin sheen of dust on it no matter how Mikey cleaned and scrubbed at it. The corner that was literally never used, not even for junk. The corner that the boy was curled up in, looking like he was trying to take up as little space as possible, only a thin sheet draped over his shoulders and no pillow. All of the other blankets were folded neatly atop Gerard's mattress. Gerard had no idea what to do. 

He shuffled back into the kitchen with a completely bewildered expression and waited for Ray and Mikey to notice him. They did, eventually, pulling themselves apart and away from the counter, where Ray had just been holding Mikey and swaying with him gently. 

“He moved to sleep in the corner,” Gerard told them blankly as they both looked to him in question. Neither of them said anything immediately. Ray's face scrunched up in worried confusion.

“Do you see any wounds on him?” the large man finally asked, his afro bouncing as he tilted his head just a bit as he thought. “Like, any bruises? He could have been seriously abused. Maybe even a runaway or something. How was he sleeping?”

Gerard shrugged. “In a ball.”

“The fetal position?” Mikey asked like Gerard was dumb. Gerard shrugged again, because Ray was one working on finishing his Masters in Psychology, not him. Ray sighed patiently.

“I want to talk to him when he wakes up,” he told Gerard with tired eyes. Gerard let out a huff, because he was pretty sure they all wanted to talk to the boy who'd fought to die. “We need to see if we can get some information from him. Where he's from and whatnot. We might have to call the cops.”

“I just want to know his name,” Gerard muttered. 

“I want to know where he buys his clothes,” Mikey cut in as he sipped at his coffee. “Did you see what he was wearing? The crew-neck was probably the raddest thing I've seen anyone here wear.”

Gerard and Ray both frowned at Mikey, who just rolled his eyes and sipped at his coffee again and that was probably his third cup. “I'm just saying,” he grumbled. “It's a cool crew-neck. And I love the Beatles. Who doesn't love the Beatles?”

“He just tried to kill himself,” Gerard stated blandly. “And you're going to ask him where he got his shirt?”

“Sweater.”

Gerard scowled. “Fine. Sweater. He just tried to jump off a bridge in the middle of the night and you're going to ask him where he got his fucking sweater? Mikey, since when has that ever been okay? Don't you think it's a little inappropriate?”

“Least I wasn't drawing him,” Mikey shot back snidely. Gerard shut up. Ray let out another sigh and refilled Mikey's coffee to distract him, because he did not want to be witness to another infamous Way spat.

“We'll let him stay on the floor,” Ray said as he filled the cup as high as he could to keep Mikey happy and satiated. “It could be emotionally dangerous for him to wake up where he didn't fall asleep. We don't want him to freak out and bolt, or worse, make for the window. You did lock the window, right Gee?”

\- - -

The boy didn't wake up until well into the afternoon, and Mikey and Ray had unfortunately already left-- Mikey for class, and Ray for a date with his thesis. Gerard's roommate was also gone again, practically dragging himself out the door with a grunt, which Gerard was actually somewhat thankful for. His roommate wasn't exactly the most understanding person. 

He only knew the boy was awake because the boy walked into the living room on feather-light feet and stood in the hallway with an awkward expression, tugging at the hem of his sweater and biting his lip. Gerard thought he was kinda adorable as he hid his sketchbook and tried his best to smile at the boy without coming off as a maniac. 

“Hey,” Gerard said dumbly, and he winced, because there were probably much better ways to great a suicidal boy. “Want some coffee?” Fifth pot of the day (Gerard dealt with his anxiety like he dealt with the rest of his life-- caffeine in abundance and little regard to his own physical well-being). 

The boy shook his head and Gerard was all out of ideas. 

“What's your name?” the boy asked in a small, yet somehow deep voice that made Gerard rethink the whole boy thing, and also wonder why he hadn't noticed it the night before.

“G-Gerard,” he stammered out, not because he was nervous or anything, who the fuck gets nervous talking to the suicidal person they saved the night before? “Gerard Way. I'm a student. I'm heading for a BFA in Art at Cornish on scholarship.”

The boy nodded slowly, as if taking it all in. Then he simply said, “I'm Ryan,” before he moved to sit at the island that doubled as the dining table and kept fiddling with his sweater. He pursed his lips, looking around the kitchen, before his shoulders slumped in what could have been defeat. “Can I have some coffee?” he sighed, smiling wryly. Gerard started, then quickly nodded and poured him a cup before sliding it to him across the tacky red, faux marble counter top. Ryan took a long gulp before setting the mug down and just sitting. He watched Gerard expectantly.

Oh yeah, he'd tried to kill himself. 

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked carefully, pushing a strand of his black hair from his face. He needed to take a shower, he didn't intend to sacrifice his heat for nothing. 

Ryan shrugged. “Do I need to be?”

Fuck, Gerard didn't know how to answer that. “How old are you?” he asked instead.

“Eighteen,” Ryan replied. “I just graduated from high school.”

Gerard frowned. “In the middle of winter?”

“I got enough credits after transferring,” Ryan replied quietly, hiding behind his hair. He didn't say anything else. Gerard began to make his lips do weird things because he was at a loss of how to continued this conversation with the boy-who-didn't-want-to-live. Ryan. But then he began to think of that time he'd nearly swallowed all the pills in his mother's medicine cabinet and thought of what he would have wanted to hear after the failed attempt and went for it.

“Ryan,” he began softly. “I want to help you. I know that you're in a dark and scary place right now, but you have to know you're not alone, okay? Even if everyone from your past is gone, you're not alone because you're with me now. I'm not going to leave you. Will you let me help?”

Ryan watched him carefully with guarded eyes. “Why should I trust you?”

Gerard shrugged. “Because I know what it feels like to be you?”

The boy's breath caught painfully in his throat, but he breathed past it. “Bet you don't,” he croaked out, almost defiantly. Gerard flinched a bit in surprise, but then reevaluated what he said, and yeah, that could be a bit weird coming from a total stranger. He remembered his suicide attempt and realized those were the words he'd wanted to hear from his brother, and okay. Gerard really fucking sucked at this.

“I just don't want to see you jump again,” he replied honestly and sadly. “It was scary. For me and my friends. We don't want that to happen to you, and we want to be able to say that we tried to stop it. So won't you let us?”

Ryan narrowed his eyes at Gerard and sat up straighter, his arms folding in front of his chest defensively. “You don't know the first thing about me or why I jumped.”

“But I want to,” Gerard insisted, not daring to move around the island. Ryan looked ready to run. “Can you let me help you?” Ryan didn't say anything, and Gerard let him win. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Or at least let me call you a cab,” he relented in defeat. “Because I'm not going to let you go home without a set of eyes on you.”

Ryan grew uncomfortable and his arms fell into his lap as he looked down to stare into his cup. Gerard was about to ask what was wrong when Ryan interrupted him. “I-I don't have a home anymore.”

That threw Gerard for a loop. He bit his lip. 

“... Do you want this to be home, then?” He didn't know how else to help the boy. “I mean, it might kinda suck here. My roommate can be a dick and there's no heat because we're both your average starving college student, b-but Mikey and Ray come over all the time and I go to their place all the time, and we all really want to help you. We can get you a good therapist, I have a really awesome one from a while back, but you definitely don't have to go if you don't want to. And we're all really chill and we really do want to help, and it kinda sucks here, but it's life, and you gotta get through it to get out, you know? And you can take my bed and you can just do whatever and--”

Gerard cut himself off when he saw Ryan smile for the first time. It was gradual and almost impossible to see if he hadn't known Ryan was frowning a few seconds before. It was an adorable crooked smile, one that showed off his front two teeth and made button nose scrunch up more than anything else. Gerard felt his heart swell uncharacteristically at the sight, though more out of protective fondness than anything else. He was already attached to this boy-- no way was he going to let him go out into the world, hungry and homeless and wanting to die.

\- - -

A week after living with in his crummy apartment, Gerard decided to treat Ryan and take him to Ray and Mikey's place. Ryan had only met the two in passing after Gerard called Ray up and asked him to maybe hang off to the side while Ryan adjusted, and Ray was eager to do so. Now Gerard felt like Ryan was ready to meet the rest of the Way family.

(Because he'd already met Gerard's forced family-- the meeting of Ryan and his roommate had been awkward enough. He'd held his hand out to Ryan and introduced himself with a gruff, “Jon Walker,” before pulling Gerard to the side and asking him in a not-low-enough voice to keep their sex down to an acceptable octave. 

Gerard had sputtered and flailed and done his best to explain away his relationship with Ryan as solely platonic while on had rolled his eyes and Ryan had just smirked. Then Jon had left for his girlfriend's house and asked Gerard not to steal from his stash of condoms and Gerard had been mortified.)

The short walk to Gerard's second home had been enveloped in the comfortable silence that had seemed to develop naturally between him and Ryan and he took it as a sign that they were both pretty fucking content. Gerard hadn't even needed to knock on the dark wood door on the fifth floor that led into the apartment because Mikeyway was a creep and had probably been watching for them through the blinds. 

“Hey, Bro,” Mikey greeted with his usual passive expression. “How's the couch?”

Gerard grimaced and sent his brother a warning with his eyes. Ryan didn't like the sleeping arrangement Gerard insisted on them having. He seemed to have this ingrain inability to impose himself on anyone and fought Gerard against taking the bed. Gerard had insisted, and then they reached a compromise-- Ryan would take the bed if Gerard used two of the three blankets. But the boy was still kinda touchy about it and always seemed willing to give up the mattress in a heartbeat. 

“Mikey,” Gerard grit out with a fake smile. “This is Ryan Ross.” He'd found out the boy's last name the second night in as they talked about nothing over more coffee and grew accustomed to living together. Mikey nodded to Ryan and held out his hand. Ryan took it after a wary glance at the gesture, not smiling or even trying to look friendly. Mikey wasn't perturbed. 

“It's fucking freezing, get in already,” he said instead after Ryan pulled away from his hand. Gerard and Ryan stepped gladly into the cozy apartment, Gerard waving to Ray who was sitting on the recliner with his Les Paul cradled in his hands and lap as he strummed away. Ray gave a friendly greeting in response and set the guitar carefully to the side before standing and also offering his hand to Ryan. But Ryan didn't seem to notice, instead eyeing the guitar with a sense of loving awe that Gerard hadn't seen in him before.

“Nice Gibson,” Ryan muttered, just staring. Ray's grin was blinding and he seemed to get very excited at the idea of having a guitar friend because Mikey favored the bass.

“You play?” Ray asked him eagerly, reaching for the guitar again and offering it to Ryan, which was a mind blowing gesture in itself, because Ray never let anyone even touch his guitar. Ryan gave this little half-shrug that Gerard had learned meant Ryan was really fucking good at it, but didn't like to brag or say he was, so he just brushed it off and pretended it didn't matter. Ray was still ecstatic and practically forced the guitar into his hands. “Play something for me, man.”

And Ryan did. After some awkward shuffling, Ryan sat on the carpeted floor at the foot of the couch and held the guitar in his lap just as lovingly as Ray did and didn't hesitate in playing a song Gerard recognized from one of the many Tool albums. A look of serenity and fulfillment washed over Ryan's face and Gerard knew that this kid was a musician because no way could anyone who wasn't in love with music play like he was enraptured by the sound. 

And Mikey was bobbing his head appreciatively, Ray was just beaming, and Gerard was smiling because Ryan didn't want therapy and maybe a guitar could do a better job than anyone in a suit.

\- - - 

Being eighteen meant that Ryan couldn't order or drink alcohol, though he could sit at the bar. Gerard was grateful for that because the last thing he wanted to do was choose between his favorite roommate and his favorite bartender at Pencey's.

“So your name's Ryan?” Frank asked the boy with a grin as he mixed the latest poisonous concoction Mikey was going to try (because Frank and Mikey had had this thing since ever where whatever Frank made, Mikey tried because Mikey wasn't scared to get absolutely wasted because he trusted Ray and Gerard wasn't scared of Mikey getting absolutely wasted because he also trusted Ray). After Ryan nodded wordlessly, Frank let out this thoughtful hum and tossed the alcohol mixing whatever into the air with a flourish. 

“I hear you're lucky enough to be living with this sweet piece of ass,” Frank smirked as he cocked his head in Gerard's expression. Ryan raised a brow at Gerard, who was blushing red, going only redder when Frank let out one of his giggles and winked at Gerard like a loon. “Dude, that has to suck. This guy doesn't sleep, you know? And he can get pretty angsty-- especially after a few of his choice fruity cocktails of the night.”

Ryan let out a small smile (and Gerard was overjoyed to see that smiling was becoming easier for him as the days progressed) and shrugged. “He can get a bit sappy,” Ryan relented. “Just as well, though, cause I don't sleep much either.”

Frank gasped dramatically and slammed the half-finished drink onto the counter like the diva he was. “Gerard fucking Way, are you cheating on me?” he demanded shrilly, but then he burst into laughter again because Frank had an issue with keeping a straight face. Gerard on shook his head and did his best to play along while still keeping his cool. 

“Ryan has magic fingers,” Gerard said around his class of Coca-Cola. “He can do wonders for me that you never could.”

Ryan snickered as Frank pretended to send an arrow through his own heart. “You wound me,” he replied to Gerard with another smirk and another wink before finishing up the drink and sliding it down to where Ray and Mikey were attached at the lips. “Stop macking on Ray and mack on the glass or you pay for all your shots tonight!”

Mikey flipped Frank off but pulled away from Ray and put the glass to his lips without true protest. Ryan tore his eyes away from the two men and Gerard pretended not to notice how his gaze had lingered just a bit longer than normal. 

(Ryan had only just learned that Ray and Mikey were actually a thing. He and Gerard had been sitting on the couch together (Gerard couldn't remember which one) when there had been a loud thump and startled cry from the kitchen that had had Ryan shooting to his feet in a flurry of panic and running to the scene to make sure everyone was okay.

Gerard wished he'd had a chance to warn the poor boy (and himself) because he could tell by the scandalized look on Ryan's face that he had not expected to see Mikey against the fridge with his arms and legs around Ray's torso as he tugged at the man's afro and rocked his hips incriminatingly. Needless to say, Ryan'd had a few questions (though he thankfully wasn't against the relationship) and had walked away from the scene with a blush that lasted for an hour, and only flared back into life when Mikey and Ray reappeared, somewhat more disheveled than they'd been when they'd left)

“I hear you also play,” Frank said, shoving himself back into the limelight by leaning over the counter and resting on his elbows to grin at the boy. Ryan only shrugged again, because he really seemed to have this thing against himself when it came to bragging about anything in general. “You play more than guitar?”

Gerard was surprised when Ryan nodded and felt bad that he had never asked before. “What else do you play?” Gerard asked, wanting to show Ryan that he was interested. 

“Keyboard, piano, accordion, banjo, harmonica, and the mandolin,” Ryan said quietly into his own glass of soda and Frank let out a low whistle while Gerard just sat there in stunned silence.

“That's a fucking lineup there,” Frank grinned. “You're your own band. Now all you need is a singer and a writer and you're golden!”

Ryan shrugged for the millionth time and Gerard smiled to himself because Ryan also had the writer and singer thing down. Gerard had bought Ryan a small leather book a few days into living together because he'd noticed Ryan writing on the island top with his pointer finger and had figured the boy needed something to remember everything he scribbled into the air. He knew Ryan could sing because that's what he did some nights in the shower when he thought no one would care. They were always sad songs that Gerard didn't recognize, but he still knew the boy was good. He decided to say something.

“He already does both,” Gerard told Frank with a grin in Ryan's direction. “He's got a good voice. I don't know if the writing is awesome, but he's in that book of his enough to make me wonder.”

Ryan actually blushed (though it was hard to see in the dim lights of the bar) and ducked his head. Frank cooed at him and reached across to brush at his bangs, and Gerard was proud when Ryan didn't flinch away from the touch. 

“Sounds like an awesome thing you've got going there,” Frank told him, though a bit more gentler than he usually spoke, meaning he really meant the words that were coming out of his mouth. “You should do something with it. Go to college and get big.”

Gerard sucked in a breath because the future wasn't something he talked about with Ryan; he hadn't even pushed about why Ryan didn't have a home and wanted to die (though he didn't ac like he was eager to jump again as of late, and that was a huge relief). Ryan only fell silent. He then excused himself from the bar for the bathroom and Frank watched him going with a perplexed and worried expression. Gerard did his best to alleviate Frank's concerns that it was his fault, but his head was only on Ryan right now. 

“I've got him,” Ray said quickly, moving from his seat. Mikey watched Ray go before sliding into the seat that Ryan had vacated beside Gerard. 

“You should take Gee to that Drag show later this week,” Mikey said out of the blue. “I can't take him cause Ray has this symposium and I don't want my brother getting raped by average men in gorgeous dresses. Protect his honour for me?”

Gerard had been planning on punching his brother in the neck when Frank grinned and agreed readily, looking to Gerard was something in his eyes that he couldn't read but made his heart race anyways. 

Ray was with Ryan and Gerard had a date with Frank. That was about as okay as things could get these days.


	2. It's Only Going Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's adjusting and Gerard could paint the sky whatever colour Ryan wanted for how proud he is of how well Ryan is doing on the whole not killing himself thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Spencer Smith.
> 
> I do.
> 
> I just really needed someone that has a recognizable name and a solid backstory so I didn't have to make up a bullshit character with a whatever past and whatever
> 
> And once again, all typos are mine, these men are NOT mine, and this would only ever happen in my dreams.

Gerard got his first hint at Jon Walker not being the terrible roommate he'd thought when he returned home after class to find Ryan and Jon sitting on the couch together, strumming at Jon's acoustic, drinking coffee and, and laughing?

Ryan Ross was laughing.

It was light, hard to notice, no more than a chuckle, really, and Gerard didn't think Jon understood how fucking amazing and shocking it was to hear, but Ryan Ross was laughing and Gerard wanted to cry and dance and laugh with him in celebration. Because Ryan Ross was laughing and this was the first time Gerard had ever heard Ryan Ross laugh after living with him for over a month. 

“I swear, man,” Jon was saying with a grin as Ryan fucking laughed. “Gerard was absolutely hysterical when he drank. It was dangerous, yeah, but it was awesome to know a drunk that wasn't depressed or angry or just boring, you know? No, Gerard would fucking serenade you only five shots in and it was the greatest thing ever.” Jon took a sip of his coffee before raising his mug in the air in greeting. Ryan turned in his seat and waved with a small smile and that was how Gerard ended up squishing himself on the couch between his possibly-awesome roommate and his also-awesome roommate, talking about nothing and everything.

“I just needed to get out of that place, you know?” Jon was saying with a sigh, taking his turn with the acoustic guitar. “I wasn't happy. Sure, I had a job and shit, and accounting wasn't the worst thing in the world, but I fucking loved music and there was no way out of that, you know?”

Jon went to Cornish College of the Arts with Gerard and was getting his Bachelor of Music in Instrumental Performance with an emphasis on jazz. Jon also liked to curse almost as much as Frank did and tended to repeat the phrase “you know” too often to be endearing. 

“There's nothing worse than settling for a career your heart isn't in,” Jon continued, staring at Ryan like he was really trying to drive this point into the boy's head. “Nothing. It's a slow suicide, Ryan, one that no one should ever put his or herself through, you know? It's a fucking roller coaster of awful and no one ever aspires to be a grunt sitting in a cubicle, waiting for lunch break so he can stare out the window and think about how much better things would be if he just jumped.”

Both Gerard and Ryan flinched, and fuck, Gerard hadn't ever gotten around to telling Jon why Ryan was living with them and what happened. He was about to say something when Ryan interrupted him.

“I fell in love with my best friend and told him. He didn't like it and told my dad. My dad kicked me out after disowning me. He said I was disgusting and a waste of space. That I wouldn't and couldn't do shit in the world or with my life because I couldn't even control my own impulses.” Ryan stared into his coffee with empty eyes. “That's why I'm here.”

Gerard didn't know if he hated Jon or was grateful to him, because now he finally knew why Ryan had tried to die, but god, did he wish he didn't know. How was he supposed to fix something like that? 

Jon clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That's fucking tough, man. A shitty hand.” He paused. “What're you gonna do to prove him wrong?”

Ryan looked to Jon with this sort of awe, like a thought was dawning on him in a new and exciting way. He didn't smile, but Gerard could see it in the kid's eyes. “Maybe I could do something,” Ryan said softly after a moment, looking very thoughtful. Gerard sat up and eagerly agreed.

“Fuck everyone who hates you,” Gerard said quickly, hoping that what was coming out of his mouth wasn't word vomit. “A smile is the best revenge.”

Ryan did smile this time and Gerard beamed up at Jon, deciding that he really liked his roommate.

\- - -

“You want to apply for Cornish?” Frank asked Ryan from across the living room in Mikey and Ray's apartment, the shorter man tracing random circles on Gerard's thigh that had Gerard shuddering as inconspicuously as he could. Ryan nodded. 

“I-I wanna be able to do something with the music I write,” Ryan said softly. “Or not. Maybe just compose, classically or contemporary.” He shrugged, fiddling his thumbs and glancing around the room. Ryan was decidedly more comfortable in Ray and Mikey's apartment after a month, but he still wasn't one hundred percent. He was still jumpy. “I just know that all I'm good at is music. So I might as well do something with it.”

“Jon got him to dream,” Gerard sighed with a happy smile. Frank hummed and removed his hand from Gerard's thigh to run his finger's through Gerard's black hair instead. The Drag show date had gone swimmingly and Frank had agreed to a few dates after that. They weren't serious, but Gerard knew he wanted them to be, and he was starting to think that maybe Frank wanted that too. 

“I was going to apply for a scholarship,” the boy continued, sitting back against the couch to stare at his fingernails that were bitten back. “Well, more than one. I just want to do something for myself. Give myself a future so I don't try to take away the possibility of even having one, ever.”

Frank went very silent.

“I finally found them!” Mikey announced as he strode into the living room from the hall with a bundle of clothes in his hands that he tossed them onto the couch beside Ryan-- who jumped, but only a little-- before he stood back with a self-satisfied smirk. Then he waited for everyone to catch on. They didn't.

“I got Ryan some acceptable clothes,” Mikey huffed, crossing his arms, and Gerard was reminded again of why he put up with his aspiring-stylist little brother. He really knew how to make someone look good no matter how many bags they had under their eyes. “I figured Ry would be partial to pastels and retro, what with his boner for the Beatles, and then maybe some plaid. And bandanas and soft shirts and skinny jeans and vests. Oh, and jackets because he doesn't like to show his arms all that much.”

“Those are a lot of clothes,” Ryan observed bluntly, eyeing the pile to his right with trepidation. Mikey rolled his eyes.

“That's kinda the point,” he drawled, moving his hands to his hips. “Unless you want to keep wearing my brother's hand-me-downs? Don't answer that.”

Ryan only held his hands up in surrender and sat there like the patient boy he could be when it came to Mikeyway. Everyone had to be unnaturally patient when it came to any of the Ways.

“You should dress me up sometime,” Frank hummed with a grin.

“I keep telling Gerard to wear more red and he doesn't listen to me,” Mikey complained in response.

Gerard was about to interrupt and wax poetic justice on how he found catering to specific clothes and style to be stifling to his own creativity when Frank mumbled, “I love red,” and Gerard forgot why he even argued with his brother when it came to colours on the human body. Colours on a canvas was Gerard's thing, yes, but canvas certainly wasn't skin (most of the time).

“Just wear these from now on,” Mikey told Ryan firmly. “They're actually your size and they won't make you look like you're starving yourself or running away from home.” 

Ryan was unfortunately skinny enough to draw attention from nurses and med students alike. He wasn't anorexic (Gerard had noticed that Ryan actually loved to eat, especially pasta and fruit), but he certainly wasn't a healthy weight, though it wasn't for lack of trying. After Ryan had opened up that night with Jon on why he'd wanted to die, he'd been a lot more open in general. Gerard learned about the binges Ryan would go on, not eating for days at a time when he had a song in his head that he couldn't perfect. Gerard understood, as would any other artist. Perfectionism will kill the artistic community as a whole.

“You really like red?” Gerard asked Frank quietly, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation. Frank's cheeky grin and nod was enough to finalize the idea in Gerard's head and that was that.

\- - -

Gerard went to Pencey's alone the next night with his hair bleached and then dyed fire hydrant red. He awkwardly pushed his fingers through it and tore into his lower lip, praying that Frank would like it. He approached the bar cautiously with a tight smile and waited for Frank to leave the drunkard down at the other end and come talk. 

He didn't have to wait long. The second that Frank first saw Gerard, he seemed entranced. He didn't even say goodbye or anything to the drunkard, only abandoned whoever that man was and strode to Gerard like he had a purpose, his mouth set in a grin line. Gerard half-expected to be punched, and he kinda felt like he had when Frank gripped his face in his hands and pulled Gerard in for a bruising (and their first) kiss.

Their lips remained locked for what felt like an eternity that didn't last nearly as long as Gerard wanted before Frank pulled away, though not far. He kept his forehead against Gerard's and let out this shaky breath that had Gerard's stomach doing somersaults before Frank licked his lips and spoke.

“I didn't want to do anything or ask anything until I was sure you were ready and willing, but I needed you to be my boyfriend, like, a year ago.”

Gerard's heart skipped and his breath caught and all he could do was stare at Frank in wonder, because how was this his life and how did he ever get this lucky? Frank finally opened his eyes before pulling away quickly with an embarrassed and unhappy look, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. Gerard wondered how he'd fucked up this time until Frank began to mumble something about “sorry” and Gerard “not wanting to” and maybe “just forgetting Frank ever asked” and oh yeah.

Gerard reached out and grabbed Frank by the neck to pull him in for another kiss that had everything flashing white and red behind his eyelids before he laughed against Frank's lips and told the shorter man that he would love to be his boyfriend. Then Frank was laughing and they were kissing again and Vonnegut said it best:

“Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.”

\- - -

Ryan had been accepted into Cornish with a full ride because Gerard had forced him to send in a few tapes of his singing and playing and writing and how the Hell could Ryan have even thought he might not get in? That was what Mikey and Ray were demanding as they feasted on Chinese takeout in Gerard and Jon and Ryan's apartment, watching Space Balls and making complete fools of themselves.

Frank was in Gerard's lap, tossing his fortune cookie from hand to hand as he stared up at Gerard and just smiling, making it hard for Gerard not to choke on his Chao Mein, but he also really didn't care. He and Frank were two months strong and Ryan was adjusting so well that Psychologist-Ray was talking about Ryan's case in his graduate classes (though leaving out his name) and even trying to set up a meet between Ryan and Ray's thesis.

“Pete's an awesome guy,” Ray was saying as the Megamaid when from suck to blow onscreen. “He kinda went through the same stuff as you. A close suicide attempt, but he's really pulled out of it! Even has a boyfriend he's been with for over two years, named Patrick. Pete's a lot like you, he does the whole music thing and he talks about existentialism and society and religion and all that shit all the time. You two would really like each other.”

Ryan was sitting on the floor with Jon, shrugging halfheartedly like he wasn't going to make the decision himself, which Gerard knew he wouldn't. Ryan didn't like meeting new people. He seemed very content with his little family that consisted of everyone in the room and that was all he seemed to want and need. Gerard was happy to see the boy trusted him, but he also wished Ryan would try to come out of his shell with people that weren't them, especially since he would be starting classes soon. 

(Of course, Gerard also understood why Ryan wasn't very eager to make new friends. It was a long story that started with “Spencer Smith” and ended with “is a total asshole and douchebag.” 

The shorter story was that Ryan had confessed his love for his lifelong friend, Spencer Smith, who had decided that “fags weren't welcome in his life” and had basically told on Ryan to Ryan's father. Ryan's alcoholic and extremely abusive (though Gerard wasn't sure if it went to physical lengths, he just knew that Ryan had enough issues for a university psychology textbook) had kicked Ryan out with nothing to the poor boy's name, and honestly, Gerard kinda understood how the only reasonable option left in Ryan's head was to kill himself.

After all, those were Ryan's father's last words to him.)

So Gerard didn't blame Ryan for the trust issues he'd developed; he just wished there was some way to help him. 

Only Jon knew Ryan's story, besides Gerard. He'd figured it was best to keep the boy's trust by keeping the story to the ears of those Ryan had told it to. It just seemed easier for Ryan that way. 

“Ryan just needs a girl in his life,” Mikey hummed as he leaned against Ray's body played with Ray's hair. 

“Or a boy,” Frank cut in, making sure to grin at Ryan. “We don't judge.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “I think you guys would have to be pretty messed up to judge me, considering you were blowing Frank in the bathroom just yesterday.”

Gerard and Frank both blushed and mentally agreed to either keep it down or keep it out of the apartment from now on. Ryan was a quiet boy, which meant the world was very loud to his ears. He could hear and see things no one else would ever notice without even trying and that's just the way his rain was wired. Gerard kinda loved that about him. 

“Which would you prefer?” Ray asked cautiously, ever the curious psychologist.

“Does it matter?” Jon cut in from the floor, taking a swig of his crappy beer and making a face as the liquid slid down his throat. He coughed because he necked was bent over his chest at an odd angle and the swallowing choked him. Ryan giggled and Gerard tried to figure out what was so funny about Jon that made it so easy for Ryan to laugh. It was probably the flip-flops. 

Ray shrugged. “It doesn't. It'd just be nice to know for future conversation.”

Jon opened his mouth as if to say something, because again, only he and Gerard knew of Ryan's struggles, before he was interrupted by the small, almost shy voice of the boy who might want to live.

“Boys,” Ryan said quietly. “I-I mean, I might, maybe, find a girl someday that breaks all the rules, and if that happens, fine, but I'm pretty sure I want the D and that's it.”

Jon really choked this time, forcing himself to sit up to dislodge the alcohol from his throat. Frank was giggling, high pitched and hysterical, and even Mikey was grinning a bit, though Mikey may have been laughing at Jon choking because he was a sadist like that. 

\- - -

“You wrote that?”

Gerard looked up from his art final in his lap and directed his attention to two of his favorite people in the world, sitting at the bar. 

It was daylight, and Frank wasn't behind the bar for once. He was seated in one of the stools beside Ryan, contorting his spine in a probably painful way with his elbows bracing his small body atop the wood to get a good look at Ryan's writing book. It was a new one (the third one) and Gerard had been very careful in selecting this notebook. Gorgeous handmade leather from Pine's Street with a green gemstone in the centre. The pages felt like they were made up of cloth more than paper and it could be tied shut with a leather hide string. Ryan's eyes had gone all wide and shiny, like they were prone to whenever he saw something that made it hard for him not to smile and fall in love. 

Ryan was watching Frank carefully, his expression guarded, because he hardly ever shared his words. So Gerard was surprised when he pushed the book in Frank's direction across the wood and sat back. His spine was rigid and his knee was bouncing, but the effort had been made and Gerard was really proud of him.

“This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor,” Frank read with a calm, respectful voice. “This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital. It's not so pleasant, and it's not so conventional. It sure as hell ain't normal, but we deal.” He pushed the book back to Ryan with an almost awed smile and gave a single nod of firm approval.

“You have some real talent there, Ryan Ross,” Frank told him softly, forcing Gerard to strain to listen. “Really good work there. You're gonna be something amazing one day, I just know it.”

Ryan blushed and ducked his head and Gerard knew Ryan was three parts embarrassed and one part pleased. He wasn't complimented enough and that always made Gerard a little sad, because when someone could write like that, they kinda deserved a lot more than suicidal tendencies and the self esteem of a fucking trauma victim. 

“Why don't you show him something you wrote?” Gerard suggested. He knew Frank was a bit more partial to the slam poetry writing style, and not necessarily the flowing prose of Ryan's work, but it was something the two had in common, and Gerard loved seeing them both get along. 

Frank grinned in response and smacked at the wood in excitement before jumping to his feet and rounding the bar, going out of sight for a moment before jumping back up and smacking a spiral notebook down in front of Ryan (who didn't even jump). 

“Not anything fancy compared to your little scribe book there,” Frank said easily, looking very, very eager to share this with Ryan. “But it gets its job done during the dead hour.”

Ryan only nodded and slid the book around before opening it to a random page and letting his eyes skim, reading and taking it all in quietly like he would with any book Gerard put in his hands. Then, Gerard watched as Ryan's eyes literally backtracked and zeroed in on a particular line before he grinned and laughed. Ryan turned in his seat to face Gerard as he read aloud: “I am the Beatles of cumming too quick.”

Frank blushed and Ryan set the book down with a smirk and a cocked brow. “Is this true, Gee?”

Gerard laughed but shook his head. “I think he lasts just as long as I need him to,” he told Ryan while sending Frank a wink. The shorter man's embarrassment was gone and he ran a hand through his hair as he chuckled.

“Should'a known you would have found the Beatles line,” Frank griped, snatching the book away. “You made fun of me-- you've lost your reading privileges.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and went back to his own book, muttering something under his breath that had Frank squawking at a painful volume before attacking Ryan playfully from across the bar. Gerard grinned and turned back to his art final and felt that everything was going to be alright.

\- - -

(let's try something else)

Ryan was indulging in a coffee break between his two last classes of the day (Applied Musical Theory and Classical Strings: History and Development) when he met him. It was more like a movie than anything else.

Ryan was completely focused on the particularly flashy menu of the Starbucks (because where else would you get coffee in Seattle) and didn't noticed the boy that would be taking his order. He'd been so busy with the decision between a caramel macchiato and a caramel frappucchino that by the time he'd reached the front counter, it was too late.

Ryan looked down in surprise when a magically musical voice asked him what he wanted and then Ryan tunnel visioned in on the gorgeous boy.

Dark hair that was almost black was coiffed up towards the ceiling sat atop a brightly smiling face with large eyes and large lips (and even a somewhat large nose that was tragically perfect on this boy's face). His teeth were straightened to perfection by what had to be the most OCD dentist in all of Washington and the boy bounced in his place, looking like he was ready to run a decathlon. His clothes were clean pressed and he was still smiling even though Ryan was sure he'd just been standing there stupidly, staring, for an odd minute or so.

“Sir?” the absolutely beautiful and happy boy repeated, starting to maybe look a little bit worried? “Can I help you?”

Ryan stammered and panicked. He stepped out of line and left the Starbucks and tore at his hair, trying to figure out why he was such a fucking fuck up and why the hell anyone would want to put up with him and how the hell he could ever expect to amount of anything more than fucking nothing because he was a fucking piece of shit that was lower than the lowest and no one loved him or cared and he should just go fucking drown himself before--

_Ryan._

Ryan stopped in his tracks and sat on the curb of the street and decided that it would be okay if he missed his first day of Classical Strings. Ray always told him that his mental and physical health came first, because if his body and mind was failing, then his grades were sure to come next. 

He slowly pried his fingers from his hair and let out a slow breath and counted back from ten. Ray hadn't taught him to do that. Gerard had. The night of Ryan's first nightmare had brought Gerard running into the bedroom (that Gerard refused to call his damn, he was still sleeping on the fucking couch, god fucking dammit) and soothing Ryan out of the hell his own mind had created. Gerard had taught him the admittedly lame, corny, and cliché trick of counting don from ten and picturing everything that was driving Ryan mad leaving his brain. 

This technique probably would have worked if the gorgeous boy from behind the counter hadn't suddenly sat down on the curb beside Ryan and handed him a warm cup of something. Ryan fumbled and almost dropped it and the boy laughed and the sound registered as something close to angels singing or a hands-free orgasm, Ryan wasn't sure which.

“You seemed like you were going to throw up,” the boy told him with the same blinding smile that Ryan was sure he directed to everyone, because Ryan wasn't special, and he definitely wasn't special to the gorgeous boy in particular. “My name's Brendon. What's yours?”

Ryan just stared.

The boy chuckled. “So I get to name you myself? Awesome! How about,” and Brendon trailed off, tapping his chin and looking very thoughtful. “What about Oscar?”

Ryan was very disappointed with this selection. He had to make it known. “Really?” he asked incredulously. “The asshole in the trashcan? I could have sworn I didn't look that much like shit when I got up this morning.”

Ryan's sarcasm made Brendon laugh again and Ryan finalized the sound being synonymous with the orgasm. “I was thinking Oscar Wilde,” Brendon clarified. “You know-- studious looking and put together with pretentious hair and musicality?”

Ryan broke eye contact, shrugged, and tried to picture the analogy. Then he remembered that Oscar Wilde was a raging homosexual, and was Brendon flirting with him? Ryan glanced back to Brendon with his peripherals and holy shit, Brendon was smiling at him with this smile that was a smile of smiles.

Ryan couldn't actually describe it, he was just really hoping that Brendon was flirting with him. 

“You should come back tomorrow,” Brendon told him as he was suddenly on his feet again. Ryan had to stop himself from asking the boy not to go because of course he had to go, Brendon had a job, he was even still wearing the god damn uniform. “Maybe tell me what you actually want to drink so I don't just make you a cup of coffee and cross my fingers. And your name. Because I will find out, one way or another.”

Ryan nodded dumbly and Brendon left and Ryan forced himself to his feet on shaky knees and that was it, Ryan had a crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gerard's words obviously belong to Gerard, Ryan's to Ryan, and Frank's to Frank.
> 
> Find all three "quotes" and you get a cookie.


	3. Something Good Can Work, and It Can Work for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon was here to give Ryan a future, Frank seemed to want a future with Gerard, and maybe Mikey's future wasn't so solid? he sure is freaking out like it isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter thanks bye <3
> 
> I swear to god I love Spencer I just needed to use him I'm sorry don't knife me
> 
> all typos are mine I cherish them and water them daily so they grow big and strong before I slice them into pieces with my sickle like a cheesy horror film

“I think Ray's cheating on me,” were the first words out of Mikey's mouth as he just let himself into Gerard's apartment, sitting on the floor without a sound, as usual. Gerard watched him with wide, bewildered eyes, before heading to the kitchen with a sigh and setting up his awesome new coffee machine (courtesy of his awesome less-new boyfriend) and braced himself against the counter. 

“Why on earth would you ever even consider the possibility?” Gerard asked carefully, knowing that Mikey was actually rather touchy when it came to discussing any of his relationships, even one as long term and sound as his three-year deal with Ray Toro. 

“He's out a lot,” Mikey said with a small shrug that Gerard knew barely touched the surface of the turmoil his brother was feeling. “And he's also in a lot, but not with me. He tells me I can't come into certain rooms when this certain person is over and they're doing certain things that I guess I'm not allowed to know about.”

Gerard frowned. “Who's this certain person?”

Mikey bit his lip and didn't answer immediately. “... Ryan.”

If he'd had coffee in his mouth, there would've been an awesome spit-take in this now suddenly ridiculous conversation. “Ray isn't cheating on you with Ryan!” Gerard exploded, smiling wide because he didn't know what else to do with his face he was so thrown off. “Fuck, Ryan's been head over heels for this Mormon kid working at a Starbucks on campus, and he fucking loves you too, he'd never do that to either of you if he was even into Ray!”

“But they're always getting together and they're not playing,” Mikey argued softly, looking down at the floor. “And, and whenever I ask Ray, he's always all tight lipped and stubborn about it, but in the only way Ray can be stubborn, you know? He just laughs it off and changes the subject and looks like someone's giving him a slow wedgie that we're not supposed to know about.”

Gerard made a face as the coffee machine alerted him that it was done with a cheerful ding. He supposed that was one way to describe Ray's own unique brand of stubborn. 

“I just want to know that they're not in there with their pants down,” Mikey admitted softly. “C-cause Ryan plays all the instruments Ray does, and more, and Ryan has this drive and passion for music that kinda makes mine pale in comparison, and it's just... It's weird, cause it feels like sometimes I'm living in Ryan's shadow? And that shouldn't even be possible.”

Gerard let out another sigh. “If it's any consolation, that's how I've always felt with you,” he said with a small smile. “I'm the big brother, but I was always overshadowed by my gorgeous, intelligent little brother. Even our cousins loved you more and you would be sitting at the kid table by yourself. All the rules said you should've been the dorky one, but you weren't. Sometimes the rules don't apply.” He began to pour the coffee into two separate mugs, not caring if they were their designated dishes. 

He paused. “And I really don't think Ray is cheating on you. I think they're just scheming or something. Maybe a birthday surprise in the works, but he's definitely not cheating on you. Ray looks at you like you're god after you've come out of the bathroom from taking a shit. You think he'd ever even consider being with someone that wasn't you?”

“People do crazy things,” his little brother pointed out, but with no real passion. Gerard smiled and brought Mikey his mug of coffee and sat on the floor with him, bumping him gently with his shoulder.

“Ray loves you,” Gerard reminded him. “That already makes him as crazy as anyone can get.”

\- - -

“So when do we get to meet this little boy toy of yours?” Frank asked Ryan as nonchalantly as Frank could ask anyone anything, which was not very nonchalant in the first place. He literally skipped up into Ryan's face, took both of Ryan's hands, and began to swing them between their bodies as he grinned up into the startled face of a flustered Ryan Ross.

“He's not my boy toy,” Ryan replied with a perplexed frown. “We haven't even been on a date.”

Gerard rolled his eyes at the obvious lie that they all saw right through. Jon snickered from where he sat on the sofa, not taking his eyes off the video game he was playing, but definitely listening to their conversation. Gerard was sitting at the island with more coffee and Frank had pounced on Ryan as the boy was coming out of his room, sleep still clinging to him as he rubbed at his eyes. It had been eight sides of adorable and Gerard had known Frank was going to cling to the poor boy regardless of having an interrogation planned or not.

But back to the lie:

Gerard and Jon knew it was a lie because Ryan had left the house on more than one occasion at odd hours of the day with lame excuses and explanations of going to study. Gerard and Jon had seen right through the bullshit because they both knew Ryan couldn't study in public places and preferred to hole himself up in Gerard's old room (which Ryan still insisted on trying to get Gerard to move back into). So for the first week, Ryan had snuck around. Then Gerard and Jon had gotten fed up.

(“I'm heading to the library,” Ryan said as he reached for the door handle. He stopped short in alarm when Gerard and Jon let out twin, dramatic moans in unison, before both saying something along the lines of “fucking bullshit, just come out with it, fucking Christ.”

He'd pulled away from the door with a timid expression and faced the two men with his toes turned in, and fuck, they couldn't keep their intimidating demeanor after being faced with that. “Just tell us who you're dating,” Jon huffed, his arms falling to his sides. “We're not gonna get upset, we'd just feel safer knowing where you're going and with who.”

Ryan bit his lip before giving a short nod, a light blush rising to his cheeks. “H-his name is Brendon and he works at Starbucks. I-I freaked out on him one day and he kept asking me questions whenever I came back after and he asked me for my number instead of my name as I joke and I accidentally told him anyways, so he wrote his own number on the cup and we've been hanging out and stuff since. N-nothing big, just bowling and rollerblading and, and ice skating and shit like that.”

“Oh my god,” Gerard practically gushed, beaming at Ryan because not only had he made a friend, he'd gotten himself a boyfriend, and he could not be happier.)

After that, Ryan had been much more diligent in telling both Gerard and Jon where he was going and for how long, or at least an estimate. And from what Gerard could tell, Brendon and Ryan had been going steady for two months, though not really romantically. He wasn't even sure if Ryan had even kissed Brendon yet, so maybe they weren't really boyfriends. But again, a big “yet” in there.

“What do you call going out with him nearly every other night?” Jon asked sarcastically from the sofa. Then he screamed bloody murder at the screen as he was sniped by a camper, nearly throwing the controller to the ground. Ryan ignored the outbreak and sighed.

“H-he hasn't actually asked me out or anything,” Ryan told them quietly, looking down at the floor with a bit more than just a hint of sadness in his voice. “B-but it's okay. He's just a really nice guy who's straight and wants to be nice to the awkward gay kid who has a crush on him.”

Frank frowned from where he was in front of Ryan, still swinging their hands. “Or maybe he's just as shy and wants you to make the first move?”

Ryan choked on laughter, blushing. “Trust me, if you even knew the first thing about Brendon, you'd know that he is the antonym of shy,” he told them with a tone of fondness, a small smile replacing the sadness. “He isn't afraid of anything or anyone. He's really nice and he has all these amazing ideas and opinions and h-he's really good at articulating himself and getting his point across and he's just...” Ryan ended the unfinished phrase with a breathy sigh, eyes going soft as he stared at nothing. 

Frank let out a low whistle. “This kinda shoots past crush, don't you think?”

Ryan's blush grew fiercer as he was pulled from his thoughts, but he didn't say anything for a long moment. “I just want to be as happy as he is,” he finally said, so quietly that Gerard had to strain to listen and Jon paused the game. “A-and it'd be awesome to also be happy with him. He just makes the world so much easier to cope with and I love being around him and just listening to him and watching the way his hands move when he talks and... And maybe I am in love with him?”

He looked up at Frank and shrugged helplessly. “I know it might be too soon to say that, but I really... even if he turned his back on me and hit me and cursed me and told me to die, I-I'd do it. Because I just want him to keep being as happy as he is.”

“Maybe it's cause you understand?” Gerard suggested softly after Ryan was quiet for a moment long enough to signal he was done. “You understand what the world can do to even the best people. And you want to protect him from that. And yourself. So you love him because he's proof that the world isn't completely evil. If it was, he wouldn't be as happy as he is. Maybe?”

Ryan smiled sadly and gave another shrug. “Maybe.” He paused again, then let out a groan and pulled one hand from Frank's to rub at his eyes. “It's too early to have deep conversations. Coffee?”

Gerard turned to the machine and poured Ryan a cup as Jon let out a groan of his own and demanded to know why Ryan even bothered asking anymore, because when did they not have any fucking coffee?

\- - -

It was raining bullets when Gerard and Ryan were both roused to the sound of a timid hand knocking on the door. They'd fallen asleep on the couch together only an hour or two ago while marathon-ing Star Wars (without Ray because Ray talked way too much during the entirety of the series). It was nearly three A.M. and Gerard picked up a rolled-up magazine before pulling the door open with all the fear and paranoia of a horror movie star.

Behind the door was a shorter boy with dark brown hair that was plastered to his face by the rain. His plump lips were shaking as his teeth chattered and he looked up at Gerard with big, innocent, scared eyes. He was dressed in cotton pajama bottoms decorated with Hello Kitty and a thin, white wife beater that showed off his teenage body and hid nothing, thanks to the rain. Gerard was too stunned to say anything.

“Brendon?” Ryan gasped from behind him. Gerard whipped around to look at Ryan's face of startled confusion, before turning back to the shivering boy that was apparently Brendon. He was very pretty for a boy. Like Ryan.

“Ryan,” Brendon said in a voice that was trembling just as much as his body. His thin arms were wrapped protectively around his middle and Gerard finally got the memo that something bad had happened. “M-my parents kicked me out. S-said they couldn't have a homo living under their roof because god would be mad or, or something like that.”

Ryan didn't hesitate in quickly pulling Brendon into the warm apartment (because Frank had helped Gerard balance the books and they no longer had to choose between heat and water) and told Brendon to stand in the foyer. He left, disappearing into Gerard's old room, before returning with one of his sleeping shirts, sweatpants, and a large beach towel. Brendon accepted the towel gratefully and immediately began to dry off his hair. 

“I-I thought they loved me, Ryan,” Brendon was almost beginning to sob. “No matter what. They always said they would. Were they lying?”

Ryan shook his head weakly as he reached up to help Brendon speed along the process. Gerard shut the door and watched the two boys with a bit of awe, as if even this tiny, friendly act was a scene of intimacy he should feel lucky to witness. The fact that Ryan was taking charge was enough to make Gerard rethink all the images and ideas he'd created for Brendon. 

“I don't know if they lied,” Ryan told Brendon, pulling he towel away from Brendon's hair to begin to dry off the rest of his body. It was then that Gerard noticed how badly Brendon's hands were shaking-- and not from the cold. “But what they did to you was cruel. And you definitely didn't deserve it. People are just afraid of things they don't understand and people get stupid when they're afraid, and stupid people do stupid things.”

“I'm gay, Ryan,” Brendon told him, his voice really beginning to quiver. “I-I'm gay, I only just figured it out a few days ago and I've already lost my family and my home.”

“We'll be your family,” Gerard cut in. “And your home. You can stay with us.” Then he gave the stunned boys a firm nod before heading into Jon's room and partially shutting the door, leaving it open just in a crack to watch in case things went wrong.

Ryan let out this burst of laughter that Gerard recognized as this thing he did whenever he was shocked speechless and unable to really do anything else. “You heard him, Bren,” he told the younger boy softly as he continued to towel off his skin. “You live with us now. The Wayward home for homeless homos, pun intended.”

Brendon laughed too, though his seemed very real and it surprised Gerard, though he wasn't sure why. He was beginning to see why Ryan liked Brendon so much. “Didn't you hear me, Ryan?”

Ryan stopped to looked at Brendon inquisitively. “Maybe?”

Brendon let out this little puff of breath that sounded put out and frustrated. “I'm gay, Ryan,” he repeated, then pausing and grinning, as if waiting for something to dawn on Ryan or finally sink in. Neither of those things happened. Ryan only continued to stare at Brendon with a question mark written all over his face.

Brendon pouted. “Dammit, Ross.”

Ryan frowned and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then Brendon was up on his toes and he was closing his eyes and pushing his lips against Ryan's and holy shit, Gerard needed to stop watching, like, three days ago.

He shut the door and covered his mouth with his hand to muffle his squeak of something when he heard Ryan moan and then heard the sound of two bodies hitting the couch and wow, that worked out much better than Gerard could have predicted.

Ryan and Brendon were definitely going to be boyfriends by tomorrow morning or Gerard was going to have to talk some sense into them. 

\- - -

Jon smiled sadly to Ryan before he turned back to Gerard to explain. “Cass and I are getting pretty serious,” he continued. “And she lives closer to the side of campus that has my classes. So she offered for me to move in and I'm going to do it. For me and for you.”

Gerard sighed and pursed his lips. “For me?”

“Yeah,” Jon defended. “You want to get with Frank, right? Like, living? I was thinking Brendon and Ryan could take my room while you get your room back and stay with Frank in there. Sure, it'll be tight, but you hate change and Frank loves it here. He's over enough to have his toothbrush in the cabinet, and did you really think I wouldn't notice that?”

Gerard flushed and glanced away. “But what about Ryan? He needs his life guru,” and that was what he'd taken to calling Jon after Jon had talked Ryan through many decisions. He'd always helped Ryan make the best one. 

“Ryan has my number, and he knows he can handle things on his own now that Brendon is here to keep his head above water.”

Brendon smiled happily at the description and visibly tightened his grip on Ryan's hand before moving onto his toes to kiss Ryan's cheek, who blushed. Gerard grinned at the two from behind his hand and did a little dance inside for how well they were getting along. 

“It's a good decision, Gerard,” Jon prodded softly, knowing that he'd already won once he'd brought up the prospect of Gerard sharing a bed with Frank. Gerard wished he wasn't that easy, but god dammit, he totally was. He stood with a sigh and offered his hand to Jon, who took it. Jon stood and they shook.

“I'll miss you, Jon Walker,” Gerard told him. “But I know you're not leaving us completely. Ryan still can't decide what classes he wants for next semester and that's your area.”

Jon only smirked, because Jon Walker was made of magic and he knew it.

\- - -

Frank and Gerard christened the new sheets three times to be extra careful after Frank was completely moved in. Ryan and Brendon were over at Mikey and Ray's, Ryan saying he needed to help Ray with a something and Brendon going with the full intention of distracting Mikey and avoiding listening to Frank and Gerard get nasty. 

Frank came down Gerard's throat with a shout and a twist of Gerard's hair, his spine arching off the no-longer-clean sheets before he fell back into them, gasping for breath. He pet Gerard's bright red hair soothingly to make up for how he'd tugged and grinned down at Gerard, barring his teeth.

“Still can't believe how much of a fucking natural you are at that,” he breathed, pulling Gerard up to kiss him gently before pushing Gerard onto the bed beside him and curling into his body. Gerard just smirked and wrapped his arms around Frank's shoulders, pulling him in closer. “Your mouth is gonna be the death of me,” Frank sighed, eyes slipping shut.

Gerard's smirk widened and he felt himself start to fall asleep too. “Gonna love living with you, Frankie,” he told the man in his arms quietly, intimately, because this was too fucking awesome for him to not comment on, though they hadn't said the big three to each other yet. Frank let out this happy little hum, and then they were falling asleep together in their bed and that was the best feeling in the world. 

\- - -

“Ray said I needed to be in the music room on campus at Cornish thirty minutes ago,” Mikey complained as he and Frank and Brendon and Gerard all trudged through the springtime slush towards said music room. Gerard had asked around and no one had even the slightest idea of what was going on. Ryan was nowhere to be found and Mikey was still on edge about Ray maybe possibly cheating on him with Ryan, so Gerard was really praying this wasn't going to be some huge reveal that would break both Mikey and Brendon's hearts. Gerard wasn't sure whose heart he'd be more pissed about.

(and forget his own, Ryan was Gerard's fucking child or something at this point, and to have the kid he adopted turn on his little brother like that would be so much worse than any knife through his chest)

“I really hope he has a good reason for this,” Frank huffed, kicking at a piece of ice that wasn't ice; it was sludge and it exploded around his toe and quickly melted into his shows. Frank's face visibly fell and he hung his head as they walked the last few metres to the music building, shuffling inside and letting out various noises of happiness at the warmth. Brendon even let out a spirited whoop! and swung his scarf around in the air. 

Mikey sighed and looked oddly resigned, and maybe Gerard wasn't the only person praying this wouldn't be a huge breakup thing. “Let's get this over with,” his little brother said in this tiny voice that made Gerard want to call the whole thing off so he could plop Mikey down in front of a fireplace, wrap him up in a quilt made of love, and feed him marshmallows by hand and just protect him from everything.

But that was kinda stupid and Mikey hadn't let Gerard hand-feed him marshmallows in years and it wasn't like they could just hide from the things that scared them.

“The music room is around the corner,” Gerard told Mikey as he nudged his brother along with his shoulder. “A really nice one, too. They have a soundproof room in the back for vocalists and solos and shit and it's really awesome.”

Mikey just hummed noncommittally and pushed open the door to the music room, shoulders hunched and expression solemn, obviously expecting the worst. But he stopped short (as did everyone else) when he saw Ray standing in the centre of the room wearing an anxious smile and a black suit. Ryan was sitting in one of the rows that usually belonged to the clarinets, in black slacks and a white button-up and black suspenders with a classical, six-stringed guitar sitting in his lap. 

He was playing this gorgeous instrumental piece that Gerard recognized as “Romance Anónimo, “or “Estudio en Mi de Rubira” from his Classical Music History course. It was a beautiful piece with no known author and Gerard listened in captured awe and Ryan's fingers flew over the guitar with skill no one could have ever guessed would be in a boy that was trying to jump off a bridge.

Ray was approaching Mikey, smiling shakily and extending a hand. Mikey took it like he was in a daze, just staring at Ray with wide, unreadable eyes. 

Holy shit, wait, was this actually what was happening?

Ray went down on one knee and Gerard wasn't sure who gasped the loudest in the room. Frank was biting his own hand to keep himself from screaming; Brendon wasn't even trying. He was jumping up in the air and waving his hands and grinning and laughing and just losing his shit, and Ryan was watching Brendon with a smile, so that was a bonus to how perfect this was. Gerard felt something on his own cheeks, and he was totally crying, but who the fuck cared-- Mikey was crying too.

“Hi,” Ray breathed from down on the floor, still smiling like he was about to have a heart attack. Mikey slapped a hand over his mouth and Gerard could just barely make out the sound of a sob over Brendon's freaking out and Ryan's gentle playing.

“So, I heard you thought I was cheating on you?” Ray continued. “Which you should realize at this point is really total bullshit. I wanted to make this special. Because you deserve it to be special. You're special, Mikeyway, you know that?”

Mikey shook his head, though Gerard wasn't sure if he was disagreeing or was just at a loss for words.

Ray laughed, the sound coming out choked and almost panicked. “I-I was just wondering, if maybe you'd like, look past the hair and the crappy setting and the fact that I made you walk here in the cold, and just, like hear me out?”

Mikey nodded this time, and that was a much less confusing response.

“Okay,” Ray said, before taking in a deep breath a pulling a small, black velvet box from his jacket pocket. He opened it up and revealed a simple, silver band that glinted in the fluorescent lighting, and Gerard was really crying now.

“Mikeyway,” Ray began again. “I've been in love with you since the day you nearly got hit by my taxi and you smacked the hood and told the driver to fuck off. You, you probably don't remember me being there because you never really saw me, but I saw you, and I never forgot you. And when I finally got to be with you, I felt like I could fucking fly. You make me the happiest man alive just by smiling at me, so would you give me the opportunity to make you just as happy by agreeing to this simply question and letting me dote upon your for the rest of your life?”

Ray had ran out of breath and he took in one more gulp before he asked, “Mikey, will you marry me?”

Ryan was still playing, but it was like all sound had been sucked from the room. Mikey fell to his knees and kissed Ray before mumbling something against Ray's lips that had to be a yes, because no way would Ray smile like that if Mikey had said “no,” or “maybe.” Then Ray was crying and bit too, and Frank was laughing with Brendon, and Ryan stopped playing and set the guitar aside in favor of just watching and smiling. 

“You're gonna be mt brother!” Gerard announced stupidly to no one, but Ryan heard him and Ryan directed the smile to him, giving Gerard a short nod. Gerard beamed back and wondered how he could have ever considered Ryan would betray him.

\- - -

They were all out at a celebratory lunch the day after the proposal when Ryan suddenly stopped eating and went really sickly pale, just staring at someone none of them recognized. 

The poor boy literally dropped his fork into his lap and onto the floor but didn't bother picking it up. His hands were shaking like he was in subzero temperatures and he was biting his lip so hard that blood trailed down his chin and dripped onto the nice white tablecloth beneath their plates. Brendon couldn't snap him out of it, and Gerard didn't even know what had caused it. All he could do was track Ryan's line of sight to a tall-ish boy with brown hair and strong shoulders. 

He glanced to Ray for hopefully some hint as to who this guy was, but Ray was just as clueless, and just as terrified at how badly Ryan was reacting to whoever this was. Ryan was seriously freaking out-- he looked as bad as the night he'd tried to die.

Then the boy caught Ryan's gaze and recognition flared in the guy. He stalked towards their table only to stop a few feet away, staring back at Ryan with an uncomfortable expression. “Ryan,” he said in a short, clipped tone, obviously just as unhappy to see him.

Then Ryan said, “Spencer,” like the name had been punched out of him and everyone at the table became immediately hostile. Ray and Frank even launched themselves to their feet, turning their most intense glares on the Spencer who had nearly killed Ryan. Even Mikey was scowling, and Gerard took this as his cue to take over the Ryan Ross damage control area of this confrontation with Brendon as his aid. 

Spencer sneered. “What, Ross, you got a whole army of them watching your back now?”

Ryan let out this little whimper of pain that tore right into Gerard's gut and he quickly took Ryan's face in his hands to turn him away from Spencer and towards himself and Brendon. 

“Fuck off,” Frank spat back, looking ready to jump on the kid and just wail on his face with his fists. Spencer looked slightly intimated, but didn't actually move away, only directed his faltering sneer in Frank's direction. Then it was like he remembered Ray was a threat too (especially with how Ray was rolling his shoulders and looking down at Spencer with cold, dangerous eyes, and even Gerard was feeling the heat) and Spencer took a step back.

“Just wanted to talk to my best friend,” he grumbled. “Is that a crime?”

“It is when you're trying to talk to Ryan fucking Ross,” Mikey spoke up, looking just as deadly as Ray and Frank, maybe even more so with the blank façade he always wore. “He's off limits to you and anyone else who made him jump.”

Spencer frowned. “Jumped?” he repeated stupidly, like he didn't fucking know, but as Gerard was stroking Ryan's arm while Brendon cooed little things of nonsense to calm him down, it dawned on Gerard that Spencer might not even know. For all Spencer knew, Ryan had been kicked out only to disappear. He didn't know about the fall.

“P-please leave me alone,” Ryan was suddenly saying, turning away from Brendon and Gerard to look to Spencer with exhausted, sad eyes, still looking sickly and weak. “I'm out of your life, isn't that what you wanted? I'm happy here. Please, just go.”

Spencer's scowl returned. “Why the hell would I do that?”

Ryan didn't respond. Mikey decided to do so for him.

“You're going to leave so we don't start a fight and beat the shit out of you, cause let's face it, the dude with the afro could take you down by himself.” Mikey smirked slyly at his fiancé before turning his attention back to Spencer. “You're also going to leave because deep down you know what you did to Ryan was a dick move, and you're sorry. You're going to leave because you feel bad about it and this is your best way to make it up to Ryan, even though it won't even come close to reconciling the emotional trauma you put your supposed “best friend” through. You're going to leave because you have a fucking heart and a fucking brain. You got that?”

Spencer left.

Ryan broke down a few seconds later and had to be taken to the bathroom so he could dry heave the food he hadn't even gotten around to eating yet. He was an absolute mess and was avidly apologizing the whole time, sobbing and begging to be forgiven for ruining the celebration lunch, and no one had the heart to argue with him because he was beginning to claw at his hair and they needed to get him home quickly. 

Once safely returned to Gerard and Frank and Ryan and Brendon's apartment, they tried lunch again. A huge pot of Lipton soup and one showing of Spaceballs later, and Ryan wasn't shaking so badly and the only evidence of his break down were his red, puffy eyes and a cut down the centre of his lip.

He hadn't tried to jump off a bridge, so Gerard considered this a win.

\- - -

Gerard discovered his unbridled passion and love for wedding planning and it was really a huge surprise for everyone. Mikey hated working in shades of white and Ray hated confrontation, so Gerard had volunteered some of his free time to help work out some of the kinks of the wedding. 

One week in, and Gerard was manhandling the whole thing from Mikey (who didn't put up much of a fight) and negotiating over the phone with flower shops and chair rental stores and an artist who specialized in personalized ice sculptures.

And Gerard couldn't be happier-- sure, it sucked having all of that responsibility, but there was something about planning his little brother's wedding that felt like a work of art in its own. He wanted everything to be perfect for Mikey and Ray and what better way to assure perfection then perfect it himself?

Of course, Mikey and Ray made all the major decisions. They chose the music they wanted to hear, the colours they wanted to see, the food they wanted to serve, and so on. Gerard just found the places that would supply said necessities and arranged it all to fit in the venue and fit in the schedule. He rented out the Sorrento hotel for the reception and the wedding itself, since Mikey and Ray were hardly religious and just wanted to make this an official ceremony for the record books and themselves, not a god or deity. Gerard was proud of them no matter what (and he wasn't really religious himself) and this was going to be perfect or heads would roll.

\- - -

The engagement was short (six months) because Ray and Mikey were so blindingly in love and fully functional as a couple so there was no reason to drag it out. Gerard and Frank were still perfect and Ryan and Brendon were still perfect and everything was going to be fucking perfect.

The ceremony was gorgeous and Gerard was in tears as he walked Mikey down the isle, his little brother a real sight in his white suit and bright smile. Once Mikey was at the alter, Gerard rushed to Ryan's side as the second groomsman on Mikey's side. Frank and a short man with dark hair that Gerard didn't recognize were Ray's groomsmen, and Brendon was proudly holding the satin pillow with the two golden bands lying on top.

(Brendon kept glancing to Ryan with these sly and suggestive winks and Ryan kept blushing and grinning and looking away and Gerard almost wanted to ask but then he realized he really didn't want to know and turned his attention back to the vows)

The reception was also going to be amazing. Ray and Mikey had asked Ryan play for their first dance, saying the song didn't have to be anything special because Ryan playing for them was special enough. They'd also asked Brendon to sing and Ryan and Brendon were nervous, but they all kept the faith. 

Then Ryan and Brendon were seated on the little stage together, Ryan with Ray's acoustic guitar and Brendon with a microphone, and Ray and Mikey were in each other's arms on the floor and that's when the music started and Frank had to hold Gerard's hand really hard to keep him from sobbing too loudly. 

“When the moon fell in love with the sun all was golden in the sky,” Brendon sang in his beautiful, sweet, boisterous voice that Gerard knew by heart because Brendon loved belting out show tunes in the shower, especially when Ryan was in the shower with him. “All was golden when the day met the night.”

Mikey and Ray were a sight, swaying on the wooden floor, staring into each other's eyes and not shying away from each other's lips, trading off between kissing like the world was going to end and just whispering happy little words to each other, identical smiles of sheer joy on their faces. Gerard watched them with a sense of peaceful awe and suddenly became hyper aware of Frank at his side. He turned to look at the man just as Frank turned to look at him and they just grinned at each other like idiots.

“Well, he was just hanging around,” Brendon sang. “Then he fell in love 

And he didn't know how, 

But he couldn't get out.

Just hanging around, then he fell in love.”

Frank leaned in closer and brushed his lips against Gerard's ear before he whispered, “I love you,” like it didn't matter, even though it really did. Gerard pulled back to look at Frank in shock, wondering if he'd even heard him right. Frank read his mind, grinned and nodded, before moving back in to kiss Gerard, slow and sweet, and fucking, he had to say it back.

“I love you too,” Gerard blurted out in a gust of air. “For a long time. Since ever, really.”

Frank giggled and nodded again. “I know.”

“All was golden in the sky, 

All was golden when the day met the night. 

In the middle of summer.”

\- - -

Gerard wasn't supposed to have seen this, but he hadn't been able to deny himself checking up on Ryan and Brendon after they had completely disappeared after the slow dance. He'd found, them, of course, in the very back, Ryan playing for Brendon and singing by himself, voice low and intimate as Brendon and Ryan sat on the floor, side by side, just listening to the music that flowed from Ryan.

“The ink is running toward the page,” Ryan sang shakily, like he was nervous. But Brendon was smiling and Gerard knew he had no reason to be nervous at all. “It's chasin' off the days, 

Look at both feet 

And that winding knee. 

I missed your skin when you were east. 

You clicked your heels and wished for me.”

Gerard left them quickly before he intruded on a moment that should only be between those two boys; the boys who wanted to live.

\- - -

“Ryan!” Ray was calling out, moving towards Ryan and Brendon and Frank and Gerard with a fucking huge grin. “Ryan,” he said again once he'd reached them. “That guy over there, see him?”

Everyone looked to where Ray was pointing; at the short, dark haired man from the ceremony, sipping champagne and standing next to an also short, dirty blond man. Ryan nodded once to show he saw him.

“That's my thesis,” Ray explained. “Pete Wentz. He wants to hire you to his label as a composer and lyricist and wants Brendon to be a permanent back up vocalist, maybe even a solo vocalist.”

Ryan didn't say anything. He looked to Pete Wentz, who caught his eye, grinned like a loon, and waved. Ryan looked back to Ray. “... For real?”

“Wait,” Brendon interrupted. “Your thesis is Pete Wentz? Arma Angelus Pete Wentz? Fucking Decaydance Pete Wentz?”

Ray nodded vigorously, his afro bouncing with the movement. “He wants you both. Don't make me disappoint him, it could be bad for his health, and my grade.”

Ryan glanced to Brendon, who grinned back and took Ryan's hand, before they both nodded in unison. Gerard watched them leave to go talk about the future with Pete Wentz and found himself unable to contain his happiness, because there you go, Ryan Ross. There's that future you wanted so you'd never consider taking the future away from yourself entirely ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically all the lyrics in this chapter belong to Ryan Ross
> 
> the song he played during the proposal was Romance and it doesn't have any author because no one ever claimed it but you'd probably known it best from My Chemical Romance's "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love."

**Author's Note:**

> hope you're not, like, hating me for this because haaaaaa that would hurt my soul
> 
> work and chapter title inspired by Two Door Cinema Club because not everything I listen to has to be emo and heart wrenching and tear inducing hush go drink your coffee like a Way


End file.
